


Whisper in My Ear

by EmeraldSage



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Detective AU, M/M, Missing Persons, Organized Crime, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, RusAme
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-09-23 10:03:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9650930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldSage/pseuds/EmeraldSage
Summary: The only case he couldn’t solve was the disappearance of his husband.[inspired by a Detective AU fanart by @iridulcentdays on tumblr]





	1. Principium

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where I'm taking this, only that it's gonna go somewhere. I've got a vague outline, a ton of inspiration, and not nearly enough time.
> 
> Inspired by this post: https://iridulcentdays.tumblr.com/post/156717778007/at-home-sick-today-so-i-sketched-out-a-quick

            The sun grinned against its almost picturesque watercolor canvas, brilliant beams bubbling happily against the soothing blend of shades. Early evening was moving in, people were beginning to return home or ready to head out for the night. Regardless of the heavy police presence in this area, people were grouped en masse, trying to head out for the night, whether it was to a nightclub, a dinner out with friends, or just a walk in the steadily dimming sunlight. The noise of a regular weekend night was like the gentle sounds of a brook and the forest to a well-rounded nature seeker. Only, he wasn’t a nature person. Much.

            Violet eyes studied the club standing sentry at the corner of the street curb. It was a lonely looking thing that seemed to blend in with its compatriots despite its almost isolated position. It was a very canny little building, concealing a very potent little secret. Not that he wasn’t aware of it, of course.

            All secrets revealed their truth to him in due course.

            All but one.

            The crashing clamor of sirens and the blazing lights was like the shades of his country’s flag emblazoned atop gleaming stars, a million times brighter than the sickly colored street lamps. A smirk twitched on pale lips, but he pushed away the expression, watching the arrival of even _more_ police with a stoicism that had taken years to perfect.

            _“Your smile changes your whole face, Vanya. Why don’t you smile more?”_

            He didn’t smile at all. He didn’t believe himself capable of it anymore.

            They pushed their way into the lonely little building on the corner of the street, shoving themselves through a riled and ridiculed crowd of teenagers and adolescents ready to riot at the slightest provocation. Some groups paled at the sight of the blue uniformed officers, pushing themselves away from their destination, the smarter ones dragging their friends with them. Some of the gaggle of overly aggressive teenage race were flexing metaphorical muscle and growling at the police intrusion. Others just crossed the street and walked around the clamor to see what the fuss was about without making a nuisance of themselves.

            The pale strands at the end of his scarf caught in the stirring wind, and he sunk into the shadows as a group of teenagers walked past him, speculating as to the raid of the town’s infamous nightclub.

            He simply stood there, letting the shadows shield him from the speculation already running rampant across the city, moonlight gleaming across from him, sympathetic.

            About an hour into the intense assault, one of the officers standing at the edge of the obvious operation seemed to pause, glancing around. His canny green eyes narrowed in on the figure leaning against the wall across the street, seeming to observe the scene in progress with no little amount of satisfaction from his position. He studied the figure, almost making his way over before his superior officer tugged him back by the arm, shaking her head silently.

            “That’s the detective who ran this case,” she murmured silently to her agitated companion, “he always comes to watch the raids. You’re quick and observant enough to spot him. Most people don’t know he’s there until he turns in his hazard report at the end of the operation.”

            The younger officer frowned, “But is he supposed to be here? Wouldn’t that jeopardize the mission?”

            “Nothing we can do, kid,” his superior shrugged, “and it hasn’t ever really had an effect before. If anything, we avoid losing the escapees from the raids cause he spots them all before they can get very far.” There was another pause, before the woman added, rather reluctantly, “He’s good at what he does. Don’t ever forget that.”

            The officer blinked, startled at the admission from his critical, hard-to-please superior, before he glanced back to where the figure had been standing.

            Only, the figure wasn’t there anymore.

            A hand clapped on his shoulder, and his gaze shot to his superior, who was smiling grimly at him. “Head in the game, officer,” she said, and he nodded, refocusing on the mess they had before them.

            But not before shooting one last look at where the figure had once been, catching a glimpse of piercing violet out of the corner of his eyes when he glanced at the deserted street, fall-dipped leaves blowing restlessly through on the wind’s testy breeze.

* * *

            The police station was buzzing as it always was, only now, it was filled with the energy and the hastiness that followed after a high-profile raid. The nightclub raid had made its way through the grapevine of the city far faster than it had to the members of the police force who hadn’t been in on the operation. And the rest of the station, while aware of the regulations that enforced that level of secrecy, was brimming with impatience, anxious to hear the truth instead of the gossip.

            He’d slunk into the station hours before any of the raiding party had arrived to the station to begin processing those they’d managed to arrest and cordoning off all the evidence that he’d already found for them. So now, he was playing statue out by the Chief’s office, waiting for his pay and his clearance, and listening to the gossip of the junior officers and the clerks swirl around him.

            A familiar cadence caught his attention, and the familiar sensation of being stared at made itself known.

            “Did you hear?” a junior officer across the room whispered to his trainee, the wind carrying the soft sigh of his words to the tall detective’s ears, “That’s Detective B. He was in charge of the nightclub case. He’s the only reason that Boss had enough evidence to raid the place. He’s solved every case he’s ever been set on. All but one.”

            “Only one?” the trainee – the gangly looking thing, younger than he’d ever seen before – was gawping, he knew, even as he reclined against the wall outside the Chief’s office, longing for a cigarette. Maybe the nicotine rush would keep him sane. It usually didn’t. “Which case is that?”

            _It had been such an exhausting day, and he’d been out far later than he’d meant to be. His husband was probably already home; most likely set up with his stacks of notebook paper, diagrams, handouts, worksheets, and study guides splayed all across their apartment’s dinner table. He could only imagine the stress afflicting his blue-eyed partner, and was incredibly grateful that his own university days were long gone. He didn’t think he could go through the stress all over again. Even if Alfred seemed to take everything that afflicted him and exacerbate it tremendously, he wouldn’t want to go through that insanity again._

_His lover was just dramatic like th-_

_The door was open, the apartment was dark, and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest._

_He bolted in, and nearly froze only a few feet inside. There were bullet shells in the corridor, scars against the wall from where the bullets had buried themselves. One clumpy, half-crooked vase that they’d made at a pottery workshop had shattered into dozens of glimmering pieces, gleaming in the moonlight. The couch had rips in the upholstery – knife marks, he could tell – and a large spattering of blood that had his heart stopping was spread across the floor and smudged against the wall._

_And pinned to the wall with a dagger was the silver necklace chain that Alfred never went anywhere without, his cross and the engagement ring Ivan had given him hanging from the center link._

            It was the worst moment of his life. The vicious chill of terror and threat had sunk into his bones and wrapped around his soul covetously in a way that not even the golden nectar of the sun’s warm rays could cure. It was a stain – tar black, and just as poisonous – on his heart and his mind. And it was something everyone who knew him _knew_.

            _Blue eyes gleamed and laughter echoed in around them. Hands twined with his, the comforting weight of a metal band brushing his fingers that matched the one he had on his own hand. A smile like the sunshine, radiant and intoxicating in its essence and its warmth, beamed at him unfalteringly, trustingly._

_Lovingly._

            The only case he couldn’t solve was the disappearance of his husband. And that seared him down to the core of his very soul.


	2. Initium (the Commencement)

            The sound of pounding feet on wet concrete couldn’t be concealed, save perhaps, by something louder and more distracting. All the more pity, he thought with a vicious snarl as he turned into an alleyway, hurtling himself into a vault to catch at the bottom rung of the fire escape for the apartment complex next door. They would see him if he didn’t hurry, but it was better than being chased across the streets, visible and vulnerable no matter what he did. And there were so few charitable souls here – with good reason – who would stick out their neck and shelter a fugitive wanted by the local gang.

            No fault of theirs, he knew. But even still, it _burned_.

            He pulled himself onto the slanted roof and bolted across, taking care to make sure his shadow didn’t show on the street below. It wouldn’t do him any good to leave the streets only for his chasers to catch sight of him in the faint moonlight.

            His thoughts raced faster than his feet, dashing furiously as his eyes caught sight of a roof path through the city he could take, one that would lead him directly to the train station. It diverged over several different streets, had several drastic jumps from what he could recall of his map, and he would have to be quick indeed if he was to make it without being seen. It was such a mess.

            Oh, but it was nothing compared to what a grand _mess_ he was in now! He had known then – when the hunters had chased him down into his very home, hidden and all, with the intent to would and incapacitate, but _not_ to _kill_ – that he would never find peace until anyone who sought him could be swayed otherwise or… _removed_ in an adequate way. But he’d never realized the extent to which he’d been betrayed.

            He should’ve known.

            _You were my best friend, Kiku. How could you?_

            Very easily, it seemed like. He should’ve seen it. They’d both been in the same recruiting program, they’d both had crazy big brothers, and they’d both loved video games; it had been so easy to become friends.

            _Did you do it on purpose,_ he wondered bitterly as he ran, the rain reflecting the shades of grief that colored his soul, and it _ached_. _Did you befriend me knowing who I was? Was I a **job** for you?_

            God, he couldn’t think that way; that thought process lay in the lines of madness. Even if…even if it would make the pain more bearable. Running that night – that moon-dark night when he’d been attacked by his brother’s hunters, when he’d attacked back and proved that four years away from his past hadn’t changed a damn thing – had nearly taken everything from him.

            It had taken Ivan from him.

            His heart stuttered and wailed, and he walled himself away from the grief that always threatened to drown him, like a single sailing ship caught in the weight of a tsunami crashing down upon the shore that bore it.

            It must’ve been God’s mercy that night, that Ivan hadn’t been home. That the hunters hadn’t _known_.

            Because if they _had_ …

            Images flashed in his mind – the same ones that had haunted him since that night, the same ones that had driven his panicked flight – of blood, of cold, of unseeing violet eyes…he squeezed his eyes shut for a split second and shoved the treacherous thoughts away.

            His shoes dragged on the tiled roof, so he lightened his steps and moved faster, wishing he could lighten his heart just as easily.

            Ivan may have been the detective, but he couldn’t have done as well against those hunters as he had. He hadn’t even known there could have been a threat, a threat after _Alfred_ of all people, rather than him. And his brother’s hunters moved like shadows on a new moon night. If he hadn’t been clumsy, the first hit they’d made would have landed. If they hadn’t stumbled on the creaky step near the couch, he wouldn’t have realized there was something amiss.

            They’d slipped up, and he’d gotten lucky. That was the only reason he was here, running blind, but still running free, instead of locked up in a tower somewhere as his brother ran rampant through the underground with Alfred’s brilliance at his disposal.

            And as much as Alfred would have hated it, he would have been completely at Arthur’s mercy. All the overprotective, overly possessive green-eyed man would have to do was go back and threaten Ivan.

            _Ivan…Oh God, I miss him_. He missed his warm hugs, how every time he fell into that embrace, he felt safe in a way even his parents had never been able to achieve. He missed the way Ivan would smile at him, so brightly and so genuinely that even his eyes glowed with the other man’s love for him. He missed the warmth and intimacy they shared so _effortlessly_ , even though it had taken them ages to get so comfortable with each other that such closeness had been something stunning and awe-inspiring. He missed the other so _much_.

            _It’s been four years_ , his heart reminded him grimly, _he could’ve moved on_. But even as he wanted to bawl at that thought – which would give him away, so he couldn’t – he knew the truth.

            Ivan had been searching for him for four years. The man had stalked clue after clue across the entire world searching for the missing blond, taking cases and building networks to keep him abreast the news and wealthy enough to afford the hunt he’d undertaken. And he’d been discrete enough that he hadn’t encountered his brother’s hunters, thank God.

            Discrete in a way that the World Intelligence Agency hadn’t been, which was why they’d stopped trying to help him only a year into his flight.

            _Discretion_ , his mind whispered, _that’s what you need_. And he nearly slowed as his eyes went wide when the idea hit him. He hooked his arm around the ledge and began to descend from the rooftop.

            The train would arrive any second, and his pursuers would miss it by more than a few minutes – he’d stake his life on that. And for his idea to work, he’d need to be on that train. And once he was on the train…

            He needed to phone his twin brother.

* * *

           The room was small, gray, and he very much didn’t want to be in it. Biting back a grimace, he hung around one of the room’s corners, watching his fellow detectives and inspectors gather and chatter together. They were a loud bunch, he could already tell.

            Fortunately, the German police captain held a strong voice and an iron will. He would put them in order soon enough.

            “I’m glad you’re all here,” Ludwig’s voice was strong and clear, and resonated easily throughout the small room they’d all been summoned to. The violet-eyed detective eyed his surroundings and his companions with easily veiled distaste, though to all else, he looked amused at the chaos unfolding around them all. The chaos continued, Ludwig’s mouth tightened into an ominous line, and Ivan began to smirk. And then, Ludwig barked, “QUIET!”

            Watching grown men and women – trained professionals in their field – cower back from the German’s stern command made him almost want to laugh. He was sure Alfred wouldn’t have restrained himself, and that thought was enough to kill any laughter bubbling up in his throat. His smirk turned into cracked glass, sharp edges and all, as the exasperated blond former-soldier regained control of the room.

            “I received a case from the World Intelligence Agency,” Ludwig’s voice was cold and stern, but it was the words themselves that had the entire room silenced, as if spelled quiet as the impact resounded around the room, “a discrete task that cannot, under any circumstances, be connected back to them. All of you have been put through an extreme vetting process used for the agents themselves to ensure you were the best to be put on this case. If you have any objection, speak now. If you betray any aspect of this case, if you reveal an _ounce_ of the information I will inform you of once you’ve signed the secrecy form, you will be classed as an International Criminal. With _all_ that particular designation implies.”

            The silence was deafening as the sheer magnitude of what kind of case this would be rolled over them. Ivan straightened and leaned forwards, lips twitching upwards as he heard the heart beat in his chest.

            This could be something _interesting_. And maybe… _maybe_ …

            His eyes gleamed. The _World Intelligence_ Agency; unlimited resources, unrestricted intelligence. If there was any agency in the world that would be able to give him a clue…to find his husband….

            “What’s the case?”

* * *

_“It’s a huge risk, Alfred. There’s nothing I could do to help you without alerting Arthur. And you know what would happen then.”_

_“I don’t need your help once it’s in motion. I just need you to get Gilbert in contact with me.”_

_“…What exactly are you planning, little brother?”_

_“Goddamn it Matt, I’m only younger by **three days**. But don’t worry. If everything works out…Arthur will never know.”_

_“That’s **not possible** , and you know it. He knows where you were, he has your photos, your information, and he knows you too well. It’s only just a matter of time until he finds you. Even talking to me right now is a major risk. You know he monitors where my calls come in from.”_

_“Which is why I’m leaving the area as we speak. Don’t worry, Matt. I’ll be fine.”_

_“You’re fine with being hunted for the rest of your life? You know Arthur will never let you go free.”_

_“….”_

_“Alfred?”_

_“I know.” A heavy sigh came over the line. “Get me in touch with Gilbert, please.”_

_“…Alright. I will. Good luck, Alfie.”_

_“Bye Mattie.”_

_Click._

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, if there's something wrong with my Latin translation, please tell me!  
> Also, this isn't the perfect chapter I wanted to give y'all, but I hope it works well enough! I hope y'all like it ^^!

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone knows Latin, please tell me if my titles are incorrect! I'm relying on Google Translate here.


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